In mother's time Dr. Maybright had seldom spoken. On many occasions he
did not even put in an appearance at the family tea, for mother herself
and the group of girls kept up such a chatter that, as he said, his
voice would not be heard; now, on the contrary, he talked more than any
one, telling the children one or two most interesting stories on natural
history. Polly was devoted to natural history, and in spite of herself
she suspended her tea-cup in the air while she listened.

"It is almost impossible, I know," concluded Dr. Maybright as he rose
from the table. "But it can be done. Oh, yes, boys, I don't want either
of you to try it, but still it can be done. If the hand is very steady,
and poised in a particular way, then the bird can be caught, but you
must know how to hold him. Yes--what is the matter, Polly?"

"I did it!" burst from Polly, "I caught two of them--darlings--I was
kissing them when--oh, father!"

Polly's face was crimson. All the others were staring at her.

"I want you, my dear," said her father, suddenly and tenderly. "Come
with me."

Again he drew her hand protectingly through his arm, and led her out of
the room.

"You were a very good, brave child at tea-time," he said. "But I
particularly wish you to cry. Tears are natural, and you will feel much
better if you have a good cry. Come upstairs now to Nurse and baby."

"Oh, no, I can't--I really can't see baby!"